13 June 2016

Poem-A-Day #105 : Ça va

The lines of my mouth stretching until the skull
pops like one of those plastic easter eggs
there will be nothing inside
save the remnants of an abandoned spaceship
that you lost when you were 5

This is the only sane response
to the story of easter and to mass killings
that feels appropriate

The skullcap makes a great bowl or so I'm told
it's one of those rhetorical things
that we know but don't Know

Recently I was explaining trepanning to some horrified person
they didn't understand that the hole is a hole
that you could blow into it like the end of a Nintendo cartridge
keep those webs away and those bits forming levels
there was confusion that it would repair itself reknit bind
and of course it heals skin covers everything eventually
but I mean a hole in your head is a goddamn hole in your head

There is a joke in this
somewhere a man drives
to a bar and opens fire

All those people opening like gifts
blood ribboning into the night
what song was playing when it happened

We are unaware of how much we tear each other apart
and until we get to the yellow fatty bits and the bone
it is hard to cease our hands
now tell me we both matter don't we
look beautiful in the reflection of moonlight off pavement

I imagine the bowl that was my skull
it is full of candy
there are so many hands that cannot be bitten